How to strike low and hard at those yellow-bellied Elis.
It’s a tradition in this space to suggest novel and creative ways to mock the Bulldogs during The Game. At first glance, this custom seems utterly cruel. The students of Yale have enough trouble as it is: they have to deal with the feelings of inadequacy and rejection after being turned down by Harvard, leading to an inevitable sense of penis envy, which their eventual high-paying, low-responsibility jobs at their fathers’ company will do nothing to assuage. That’s even putting aside the constant danger that Yalies face in the police state of New Haven.
Be that as it may, tradition is tradition. Coming from Texas, I am no stranger to rivalry — rivalry that is, at least in the case of University of Texas and Texas A&M, characterized by largely unfounded slander. The Longhorns joke that the Aggies have sex with sheep, while the Aggies shout back that the Longhorns have sex with other men.
The Harvard-Yale rivalry is more highbrow. Harvard students, sitting high on their gilded thrones and secure in their superiority, condescend to recognize Yale’s existence only once a year for The Game. Yalies, on the other hand, live with the constant burden attending a school that was only founded in 1701. In fact, Yale University tried to make up for its lack of history by using a chemical to make certain buildings look older than they actually were, leading to structural faults. Nice one.
You’ll need sophisticated chants to really get into those Yalies’ heads for this kind of sophisticated rivalry. Try this one, from the now-infamous British chant “Stand up if you won the war!” Shout, “Stand up if you made JFK!” Then stand and shout, “Stand up if you made FDR!” Stand again, this time shouting, “Stand up if you made George W. Bush!” Be sure to remain seated for the last one. Sick burn. (This requires you to totally ignore that Bush attended Havard Business School, but I’m good with it.)
Sometimes the best cheers are the simplest ones. Oscar Wilde-like wordplay is great, but it’s a little hard to understand when shouted in semi-unison. Perhaps as cutting a cheer in this case would be a call-and-answer one. For example, call out, “Eli Yale!” answered by “Sucked!” This gives you more sophistication than simply saying that Yale sucks — which, while true, hardly needs to be belabored at this point — but the cheer is still simple enough to get across when yelled by a large student section.
There are plenty of great cheers out there. The trick is to use them at the right time. I’ve seen too many cheers made on one side of the stadium, while play is happening on the other side. Save your breath for when it’s effective, people. No Yalie is going to hear you question his sexuality or make fun of his inferior intellect from the other side of the stadium. Wait till they come to you. I think you’ll like the results.
Now, the most dedicated hecklers will want a kind of aid to make heckling more personal. In the tradition begun by my predecessor, Indy president Colin Twomey, I’ve gone to the Yale athletics website and read the bio of every single varsity football player. It wasn’t the most interesting reading, but I’ve come up with a few points that will make your heckling more personal.
Chris Blohm, TE: Most of the players with complicated last names have pronunciation guides in their bios. Chris Blohm doesn’t, which leads to only one conclusion: someone doesn’t want to broadcast to the world that Chris’s last name is pronounced “blow ‘em.”
Ty Davis, OL #73: This talented offensive lineman has won a great many meaningless awards in his time on the Yale football team. More interesting is his high school work in forensics; Ty earned second place in a national competition. It’s no surprise that a Yalie didn’t come in first. Still, I’ll admit that he’s no doubt a master debater (perhaps “master bater” to his friends).
Jordan Forney, WR #82: While Jordan is an accomplished athlete, his twin sister earned more letters in high school than he did. I’m sure he’s not insecure about it.
Alex Golubiewski, OL #70, River Kim, PK, Ben Miller, OL #72, Wes Phillips, DB, Pat Ruwe, DE, and Caleb Smith, TE #86: These young men have nothing listed in their bios; Wes Phillips doesn’t even have a picture. They are shielded from random gawkers that happen upon the Yale athletics website, including smart-ass sports writers at certain Harvard newspapers. Touché.
Louis Gresham, OL #75: This offensive lineman has lived in Hawaii, Morocco, and Cyprus, moving around in his childhood with his father, a lieutenant colonel. After living in all these exotic places, it’s pretty hard to believe that the bland yet mortally dangerous setting of New Haven, Connecticut, appealed to him. But I guess your choices are cut down after being rejected by Harvard.
Grant MacQueen, WR #87: One of Grant’s parents has the unenviable full name of Gay MacQueen. I’d like to think that we’re above gay jokes here, but there’s a mountain of evidence to the contrary.
Gio Christodoulou, WR/DB #30: Gioís last name means “slave of Christ in Greek.” I just thought you should know that.
Stephen Morse, OL #61: I haven’t had the privilege of meeting Mr. Morse, but he seems to me to be a total douche. I’m basing this all on his official photo, which shows an objectionable haircut and in which he is wearing sunglasses. Stephen lists his chief hobbies as powerlifting and singing. One would hope that he doesn’t do both at the same time, as I bet that it sounds a lot like someone taking a crap.
Rodney Reynolds, LB #23: This past summer, Rodney joined the ranks of college students who got a job. But while most students would get an internship at a law firm or volunteer at a hospital, Rodney ran a sweet potato pie business called “Jeremiah’s Pies.” I know Yalies aren’t the cleverest, but something isn’t right here. Rod, don’t you usually make pies with fruit?
Eric Senn, WR: This Eli receiver has ambitious goals. He claims that he models his game after Heisman winner Charles Woodson, who now plays for the Green Bay Packers. While this would be ambitious for anyone, it’s especially ambitious for a 190-pound white guy. Not to mention that Charles Woodson plays Cornerback, while Eric here plays Wide Receiver.
Shebby Swett, FB #45: Sweaty Shebby spent two years in Italy on a Mormon mission. Now I’m all in favor of traveling to Italy, which is a magical place (even more so than Disney World), but to go there to spread the word of Joseph Smith about mysterious tablets read out of a hat and polygamy seems both fruitless (owing to the gentle but tenacious hold of Catholicism, caffeine, and alcohol on the Italians) and silly.
Landon Hairgrove, OL #64 and Uthman Arogundade, DL #69: Never fear, Landon and Uthman. If chimpanzees typing for an eternity can eventually produce Hamlet, eventually your names won’t be weird.
Don’t feel bad about making fun of these players personally. Just like celebrities sacrifice their right to privacy by becoming celebrities, Yalies have sacrificed their right to not be ridiculed by matriculating to Harvard’s ugly stepsister, which serves as a safety school for those who can’t make it through Johnston Gate. If they had any sense of self-respect at all, applicants rejected from Harvard would go into a self-imposed exile at Stanford instead of remaining so close to the school that sent them a polite letter about being unable to admit everyone in its “wide pool of talented applicants.” Those that are left are all fair game. They brought it on themselves.
Andrew Rist ’09 (arist@fas) has been making fun of people’s names, hobbies, and religions since slightly after he was born, but has just now found the right medium for it.